Safe with her
by iamiamjake
Summary: B&B wind down playing basketball after a nonspecific domestic violence case. oneshot. In the spirit of the last 3 minutes of an episode. Sentimental


**Set in season five, not at a specific time, inspired by season 3 Player under pressure. No specific spoilers.**

* * *

It was usual for them to wind down together after a case. This one had involved a case of domestic violence which was particularly emotionally stressful to him, so she had followed his lead when he expressed a desire to vary from their usual routine of sharing a meal or drinks.

Still, running through the events of the day she was having a hard time figuring out how exactly they had ended up _here_. She briefly tried to trace what chain of events had led to this, but before even her quick mind could work out the cause and effect she was forced to focus on her surroundings by nearly 200 pounds of Booth trying to get past her.

Her competitive nature took over, and she found her focus completely on the game. Maneuvering to give herself leverage so that she could disrupt Booth's movements with her considerably smaller mass. Following the flow of his movements so that she could time her actions for greatest effect.

When they had been at it for five minutes she had managed to disrupt two of the throws he had tried to make. Once she reached around through his arms to touch the ball and alter its trajectory just as it left his hands after he had spun past her, the other time she had managed to get in front of him and jump to touch the ball in the air, again altering its trajectory enough for it to miss the basket.

She had been thrilled and fascinated at his apparently unconscious reaction to her success in opposing him. Even though she had not managed to keep the ball long enough to throw it at the goal herself, now ten minutes into the impromptu game she was at least making him work for it.

And the more she challenged him the more he let his control slip. She was surprised as he became rougher and less carful with her, apparently getting into the game so much that he forgot to be a 'gentleman'. More than the game itself, which realistically she had no significant chance at winning, it was her curiosity at seeing this side of him first hand that motivated her. She give in to every competitive impulse she felt, and to put every effort into opposing her partner.

She was feeling the effects of adrenalin and other chemical signals in her system, experiencing heightened metabolism, narrow focus, hyperawareness of her surroundings, allowing her body to react with minimal conscious consideration. So when she felt pressure against her, her body reacted according to her training.

He surprised her by reaching over her right shoulder for the ball with his left arm. Taking advantage of his height as she bent slightly to dribble. He misjudged slightly, loosing caution in his enthusiasm for the game, and his body shoved against her right side.

Without hesitation or thought she braced with her left leg, digging her right shoulder into his ribcage and reaching with her other hand to grasp, she took his momentum and encouraged it, pulling as she stepped around and under him.

The ball was on its way up from a bounce as he hit the ground on his back.

Her head swimming with hormones, she never paused. She took a step toward the ball, pushed it to the ground in a single dribble, caught it in both hands, and took her shot. Her intense interest in the outcome of her throw gave her the impression that the approximately 2 seconds she had to wait for the outcome was as long as waiting for lab results.

The ball followed a parabolic arc that intersected the rim of the goal hoop just after its apex, so it had little velocity at that point. It hit with its center of mass nearly directly above the rim and its trajectory close enough to vertical to give the impression that it had landed there. After a fraction of a second of uncertainty, dynamic forces overcame it and it fell to the outside of the goal.

Registering the irrational surge of disappointment she felt, and contemplating anthropological reasons for her apparent emotional attachment to her performance, she turned back to her partner and playmate.

Who was still lying on the ground.

The basketball forgotten, she hurried over to him and knelt, her hands reaching for him to check for injuries. As she knelt his hands clasped her forearms, and she saw that his facial expression and body language did not indicate pain. He looked at her with wide eyes and dilated pupils, and his face melted into a look of wonder as he pulled himself up to catch her in a fierce and rather uncomfortable hug.

* * *

Booth came back to himself as his back hit the ground.

He had been so involved in the unexpected competition of the game that he had let his restraint slip. As he registered what had just happened he was struck by several emotions. He was slightly horrified with himself for losing control of himself to the point of what amounted to a physical assault on his partner, but as she appeared over him he was overwhelmed by the realization that she had taken him down without the slightest hesitation.

He had let his control slip. He had gone too far, and not only had she been able to deal with it, she had done so so easily that she apparently hadn't even noticed. (There was a familiar irritatingly squinty voice in his head reminding him that he had not had any violent intent, only over enthusiasm for the game, but this failed to have much impact on his visceral reaction.)

He could not hurt this woman. She could take him, and she would never hesitate to stand up to him.

No matter what.

He was safe with her.

Looking into her eyes, he could see that she was concerned for him but not at all worried at his behavior. He needed to convey what he was feeling to her, but had no words. He pulled her into his arms as best he could in their awkward positions.

She did not resist the gesture, but did not really return it either. He held on and took a steadying breath before she pulled back slightly.

"Booth?" She sounded concerned.

He pulled back and smiled at her, grasping her forearms gently as they shifted into a slightly more comfortable position, still on the blacktop.

She pulled a hand away to check the back of his head, her concern fading to confusion as he shook his head and grinned, telling her he was fine. Better than fine.

She relented and returned the clasp on his forearms, looking baffled by his attitude.

"You, Bones, are truly awesome. "

Now she looked completely lost.

"But I missed the goal. "

He grinned. How could he find the words to explain? There were things he had never tried to find the words to speak of, never wanted to. But for her?

"Basket, Bones. "

He would have to find the words to explain. He was not his father, he knew that, but he also knew himself to be capable of great violence when it was needed. And he knew his father as a loving man, a kind man, almost all the time.

Almost.

He truly understood how victims of abuse, no matter how strong, could make excuses for their abusers. He knew, _knew_, how it was that you could love someone who sometimes caused unforgivable pain.

And he knew also that that was something she could never understand.

Grinning, he got to his feet and pulled her up with him.

"Are you sure you are all right? Your apparent emotions do not seem to match the situation. "

"Yeah, they do. " He was still smiling but there was seriousness in his voice.

"What aspect of this situation makes you so happy?"

"I'll explain. I want to explain, but let's go get something to eat." Still holding her hands he started heading off the court.

She followed him a step, then pulled away and jogged back toward the hoop, calling over her shoulder that she was getting the ball.

No, she would never understand the justifications victims made. She would never let a transgression slide. She would never back down to spare his feelings, never keep her mouth shut to avoid a scene. She would always confront him, no matter what. And somewhere along the way he had found that he loved that.

He had learned to share himself with her, to show her the parts of himself he never thought he could let show.

He watched her jog back to him with the ball and slowed to a walk, still looking confused. He fell into step beside her, meeting her eyes as she looked at him. He realized that somewhere along the way she had learned too. She did not withdraw the questions, but had learned to give him time, trusting him to answer when he was ready. Trust he had earned.

And as much as it frustrated him that she would never just let things go, he rejoiced that she would never let him off the hook, would always expect an explanation. Would always expect her trust to be _earned_.

Maybe Sweets was right and his feelings for Bones had not been so romantic before the coma dream, but there was no doubt in his mind that he had wanted this woman in his life. This was no simple infatuation. She was his match, his partner, in every rational and irrational way. And, no matter what, he needed her in his life.

Because with her, he was safe.

* * *

**Please let me know what you think. This got a lot longer and more serious than it started out as, but please let me know what is and is not in character. **

**If anyone reads this who is following 'things you should know', sorry for the long delay. It will be back eventually. **


End file.
